


I Really Just Don't Care (about Basketball)

by Kuanna



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Background yakuza, Bunch of OCs - Freeform, Childhood Friends, Rebirth, Reincarnation, but have you seen her muscles?, mostly her family, old soul young body, she doesn't really care about basketball, she will beat you into the ground, sleepy girl, slight PTSD, strong female character
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-07
Updated: 2019-01-07
Packaged: 2019-10-05 21:47:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17332946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kuanna/pseuds/Kuanna
Summary: Setsuna wasn't really all that fond of basketball, or sports in general really. She's just here as the emotional support friend (not that she thought she was very good at it.)But at least Satsuki is happy to see her.(Or in which an old girl just wants to make sure her friends are happy. Semi SI/OC)





	1. Wow, that dog is big

**Author's Note:**

> This is just an idea I've had for a long time now, not necessarily about Kuroko no Basuke, but rather a person who has been reincarnated multiple times.
> 
> Heavily inspired by Cookie Krisp's 'Chris Pettigrew and the No-Refund Policy' on FF.net

The most merciful thing in the world, I think, is the inability of the human mind to correlate all its contents. We live on a placid island of ignorance in the midst of black seas of infinity, and it was not meant that we should voyage far.

H.P. Lovecraft

-

Ciel Beaumont was a tall, skinny girl with bright blue eyes and short sunny blonde curls that cupped loosely around her cheeks. She had a beauty mark just under her right eye, the only thing decorating her otherwise lightly tanned skin. She wore a rather plain white shirt and skinny jeans with sneakers. She pushed her pair of oversized sunglasses higher up her nose as she entered the large soccer stadium crowded with fans.

It was 2015 when Ciel was killed in an ISIS bombing.

Saorise O’Conner was a tall, skinny girl with bright blue eyes and long sunny blonde curls that fell down her back in waves. A beauty mark dotted her pale skin just under her right eye. She wore a loose fitting dress handed down from her older sister and had a straw sunhat tilted down over her face. Picking up the hem of her skirt, she raced across the street.

It was the summer of 1945 when Saorise was run over by a speeding truck with faulty breaks.

Elizabetta Ricci had bright blue eyes sunny blonde hair tied up in a messy bun. The only thing marking her otherwise sickly pale skin was a beauty mark under her right eye, almost invisible against the bruise like dark circles. Her frock was covered in paint along with her hands and-

It was 1712 when her brother stabbed her in the back with a carving knife.

Rukia had long, curly blonde hair and blue eyes with a mole under the right one. She didn’t know her last name, didn’t know where or when she was, and didn’t know much of the language. The house was hot, she smelled smoke, and she-

In 1992, a nondescript Japanese home burned to the ground, killing the daughter hidden in the basement.

It went on this way for a long while.

Living. Dying. Living again. Dying again. Both were equally unpleasant if you asked Ciel. Even turning into dust would have been better than this. Wait, she had already done that before. 

Ha, fire joke.

Sometimes, when she was in a mood to philosophize, Ciel would wonder if this was all just some fucked up cosmic joke she was the butt of, or that someone, somewhere, was sitting in an immaculate white office, screaming out into the void after they had committed a mistake of the highest offence. Other times she would wonder why some things just plainly made no sense.

One would think that a new life would mean a new appearance, but Ciel’s own would remain much the same as her first life; as ‘ _Ciel_ ’.

Though it was comforting to know that she would never look into the mirror and see a stranger gazing back at her. Some didn’t mind it, others despised her completely for it, and the rest, well, they couldn’t even tell. (Those blissfully unaware parents, however, were few and far in between.)

That brought her to where she was now.

Running, pushing her lungs to their limits until she was convinced she would spew fire from the way they burned. Her short legs were jumping over roots and sliding over boulders like she was a stone skipping over water. How many skips would it take until she sank?

 She didn’t look behind her, her instincts wouldn’t allow her to, but the menacing growling was all she needed to hear to pick up her pace, zig-zagging between the trees in a pitiful attempt to loose her tail.

Naturally, it was a complete and utter failure.

She was almost at the break in the tree-line, her goal, when a shadow pounced on her from behind, sending her flying face first to the forest floor and tangling her blonde hair with leaves and sticks alike. The stinging sensation on her face and hands was easily ignored in favour of focusing on the slobbering maw just inches away from the back of her neck.

One little bite was all it would take to paralyze her for the rest of her life. She was agonizingly aware of that. Her heart was beating as fast and as hard as a drum, but she didn’t dare let a single breath escape her _._ The line between life and death was as easy to cross as a small creak after all.

“Tamotsu, to me!” From the opening in the trees walked an old and greying Japanese man dressed in an expensively fine black yukata, with a thin coat overtop. His face, lined by age, was pulled into a great, toothy smile. His smile looked wild when paired with his scraggly grey beard, one might even compare him to a bear.

As if a switch had been flicked, the dog’s snarl fell and the animal jumped form her back with a happy bark. The young blonde finally released the air from her lungs, gasping as she tried to get control of her breathing. All the exhaustion from running had returned to her tenfold.

She continued laying there, as limp as a leaf, until the man made it to her side to crouch down by her. Her head was so dizzy from exhaustion and lack of air that she couldn’t even think straight. The dog, which had just been snarling and chasing her with wild abandon only moments before, licked tenderly at her cheek.

  _I hate this. This is dumb. God, why can’t I get to sleep like a normal person. But noooo, stamina is important when running away from people— and animals. Who cares._

 “Tsuna-chan, you did well today!” The burly man boasted as he gripped her by the arm and hauled her to her feet as if she weighed nothing more than a feather. The blonde wobbled for a moment as blood rushed from her head to her toes, and gripped at the man’s coat to steady herself. “Last time you didn’t even make it a mile before Tamotsu got to ya.”

 The large grey dog, who was almost big enough for Setsuna to ride on, barked with glee, wagging his tail as if he, too, was proud of her.

 Setsuna didn’t bother responding to the praise, her legs felt too much like jelly, and her body cried for a sleep that lasted at least 10 years. Though the reality was she didn’t expect to make it through a normal night with proper rest. With little care for the expense of the cloth, Setsuna wiped her dirtied, sweaty face on her grandfather’s expensive kimono, ignoring the way the man’s face scrunched up in annoyance.

“Oi! What do you think you’re doing you little brat!”

An annoyed huff was the only response he got from her.

 Sucking his teeth in irritation, the old man, with surprising strength for his old age, gathered the young girl into his arms, holding her so her head rested in the crook of his neck, and started to make their way back home. It was only a little past 7 in the morning after all, and the rest of the day still awaited them.

 “Good morning Boss! Did missus have a good jog?”

 “Mornin’ Boss!”

 “Ojou must be famished! I’ll tell tha boys ta bring tha food out.”

 As the pair walked into the yard, they were bombarded by greetings from man and woman alike. Many of them large and gruff looking, worn down by the world but stronger for it, sporting scars and tattoos that would have any normal person crossing the street to avoid crossing their path.Setsuna only nestled her face deeper into her grandfather’s neck, hoping that they would be quiet so she could rest.

_Ya, like that would happen. I’m more likely to get fire raining from the sky than peace and quiet in this place._

 When she next opened her eyes she was sitting in a small tea room with a bowl of rice and fish in front of her. Her grandfather was nowhere to be seen, but Tomatsu had his large, furry head sitting on her lap, blinking up at her with wide, brown eyes, begging for scraps.

She only hesitated only a moment before petting him.

 It was easy to forget that he had been fiercely chasing her that very same morning when he now looked so much like a puppy (albeit a large one). She had seen him rip a man’s throat once, but never had the dog ever injure her outside of ‘training’.

‘ _Training_ ’ was just a game to him, one where he would be rewarded for _playing_ with his favourite family member, so she could hardly blame him for enjoying it.

That didn’t stop Setsuna from being weary.

A chopstick was pushed to her cheek and her blue eyes flickered over to a black haired teen sitting to her right. He looked to be no older than 15, the youngest in the group aside from herself, with bangs brushing his just above his sharp grey eyes and a frown that looked more like a pout on his youthful features.

Setsuna’s not quite sure when, exactly, Shin had become part of her grandfather’s gang. To her, he had sort of just showed up one day and never left. She’d seen him doing a lot of the work that the other guys didn’t want to do. Which included, but was not limited to: taking out the garbage, cleaning the courtyard, going out for groceries, and, of course, making sure Setsuna ate her meals.

_‘Too young to get involved in this line of work,_ ’ her grandfather had once said to her when she had finally noticed his presence in the yard, _‘but at least this way we can keep an eye on him, keep him out if trouble.’_

“Eat,” Shin said, promptly breaking her from her thoughts by shoving a pice of fish to her lips. She had no choice but to comply, opening her mouth and taking in the food. Her stomach growled eagerly for more, and, without even lifting a hand of her own to feed herself, breakfast was finished.

Shin smiled proudly, as if feeding her was a mighty accomplishment.

“I feel gross,” Setsuna spoke for the first time that morning, her voice croaky with disuse.

“Eh? That’s right! You still need to bathe before you go to school, ojou-chan. You’re a mess.” Setsuna grimaced at the title but nodded nonetheless. She doubted she would ever adapt to being called that. She was no young lady. “You better hurry up, or you’ll be late.”

Setsuna hummed a neutral affirmative, not particularly caring if she was late or not. It was only elementary school, after all. Very trivial, and boring to the highest degree. But, as monotonous as school was, it also gave her something to do. That, she thought blithely, and it was mandatory for every child to go to.

 If there was one thing Setsuna didn’t mind about being the family of some wealthy old guy, was that a lot of things were handled for her. She didn’t have to worry about laundry, running a bath, making sure she ate, and whatnot. Normally, by the time she even thought about something that needed to be done, it would usually already be finished.

 It was… an interesting experience, being Yamamoto Setsuna. She wondered why the people around her were eager to help her when just you could tell with one look she didn’t belong. She matched the Japanese’s very idea of a foreigner with her blonde hair and blue eyes. Her eyes were too big, too wide, her nose not quite right, and, she knew as she grew older, she would be taller than normal as well.

The point was, it was very obvious that Setsuna didn’t have one drop of Japanese blood in her (literal blood relations or not). Still, despite this, she was treated like a younger sibling among the men and women of the Ōkami clan. Setsuna did her best not to question this too much for fear of the consequences.

“Come, ojou, we must give our leave to the obayun before we go.”

Setsuna allowed Shin to take her hand and guide her through the long, stretching halls and to the door where her grandfather was waiting with Tomatsu ever dutifully sitting by his heels.

Her grandfather saw her off to school everyday, and while she was gone he would be doing whatever it it obayun’s did. Sell drugs, launder money, send out loan sharks; y’know, obayun stuff.

“I’ll see you for dinner,” the old man said, brushing Setsuna’s bangs back tenderly. There was no smile on his face, but his eyes were soft. There were no bold smiles in front of the ranks.

Despite herself, Setsuna enjoyed his affections and leaned into his hand. She would take what affections she could before she would be inevitably starved of it in later, more unfortunate, lives.

_People are annoying that way. Much too fickle for their own good._

 “See ya.”


	2. Aomine really wants to play a game (and Setsuna does not)

Four years and Setsuna still could only remember a sparse few names of her classmates.

“Yeah, uh, Aloe, right?”

 The undisguised offence on his face was almost amusing. The navy haired boy (and that was her first clue that this place was _weird_ ) growled in irritation, darkly tanned skinned flushing in angry embarrassment.

 She didn’t really forget him, weird hair was hard to forget, but names were never Setsuna’s strong point. Face’s were by far easier for her to remember.

 "How many times do I have to tell ya! It’s Aomine Daiki! Get it right!” He dramatically threw his hands in the air, like he was begging the gods to smite her the next time she got it wrong.

 Setsuna looked up the to sky curiously. Nope, no lighting and thunder. In fact, today’s weather was quite nice with the clear sky and warm sun. Walking home wouldn’t be too bad.

 Today seemed like it would be a halfway decent day.

 That is, until somebody decided to jump attack her from behind, clinging to her like saran wrap.

 Setsuna froze like she was turned to stone, back aching from the small body pushing against fresh and aged bruises alike. Though it wasn’t an excruciating pain by any means, the throbbing wasn’t one easily ignored.

 “Ya, Setsu-chan, it’s _really_ easy. Dai-chan is an aho (idiot), so even you should be able to remember! The aho is Aomine!” Momoi smiled childishly, squishing her face against Setsuna’s like they were sisters.

 And, as if things weren’t as already bad as they were, pink hair tickled her cheeks and threatened a sneeze out of her.

  _Ah, the other weird haired one has showed up. Shojou protagonist girl._

“Hey!” Aomine refuted the obvious tease, anger getting the best of him again. “I’m not an aho, Satsuki!”

 “Ya? Tell that to your test marks.” Like the child she was, Momoi pulled down her lower lid and stuck her tongue out at her friend. Then, just to further irritate him, she somehow managed to hug Setsuna closer than they already were.

 “Please get off me, or I’ll sneeze on you,” the blonde warned dryly, growing more uncomfortable with the close contact as time went on. Her arms were held awkwardly at her sides, as she questioned what to do with them.

Momoi was quick to comply, knowing she was probably telling the truth, and swung around to Aomine’s side with a cheeky smile before it abruptly slid off her face to be replaced by worry. “Huh? Setsu-can, what happened to your face!?”

 “That’s rude,” Aomine cut in with a cheeky smile, “she was born with that face you know.”

 The 10 year old slapped the boy’s side in admonishment. “You really are an idiot. Just look at her! Scratched to smithereens! _Smithereens_!”

 Setsuna’s face wasn’t, in fact, scratched to smithereens, but there were indeed a few scratches and a light bruise on her nose from when she had fallen on it earlier that morning. Huh, she had almost forgot, but now that she mentioned it, her face was a little tingly.

 “I fell,” she said truthfully.

 “Well, I can see that!” Momoi was frustrated with the unsatisfying answer.

 Setsuna raised an eyebrow at the excessive concern, not really understanding why she was blowing up over this. “Dude, it’s just a scratch. It’ll heal, scab over, and fall off. Or maybe I’ll pick it off… Dunno, it depends how itchy it gets.”

Momoi looks horrified that she even suggested picking at a scab, and Aomine doubled over laughing, slapping at the ground like he’s heard the funniest thing in his life.

 “See!” he said, finally getting the wind back in his sails, “I told you she didn’t care about stuff like that.”

 Setsuna looked at him in confusion. What was the point in worrying over a little cut? It wasn’t like she lost a limb or anything. Besides, kids fell and got hurt all the time, they healed quickly enough. One of the perks of being young, she supposed.

 Momoi splutters, lip wobbling and just looking at Setsuna like she was crazy. “B-but, you’re so pretty! How could you not care about a scar!”

 It was cute, the way the young girl cared so much about something so superficial as her appearance, but Setsuna was not always Setsuna and it would take something a little worse than light scaring to bother her.

  _Like slowly bleeding out from a missing limb as the world went numb._

  _The feeling of a fractured rib only lightly grazing your lungs as you breathed._

_Having your throat ripped out as you wheezed your last words._

  _Burning you tongue on a hot cup of soup._

 Hmmm, now that Setuna thought about it, there were a lot of things that could bother her.

 "Thanks,” she says instead, amusedly touched at the kid’s concern. “You’re pretty, too. Pink suits you.”

 And it did, in a way that someone who was born with pink hair and eyes could only pull off. Not everyone looked good with it. Setsuna doubted she would look nice in such a colour. Not that she would even think of dying her hair; too much of a bother, really.

 But… now that she thought about it, Setsuna had more than once seen people with odd hair colours walking the streets. _Families_ with weird hair even… Maybe that was why nobody seemed to mind her own colouring so much.

 When weird becomes the norm, nobody bat’s an eye.

 Momoi smiled brightly at the compliment, cheeks colouring a pleased pink. She was obviously the type of girl who took pride in her looks, which was why she was so worried over Setsuna’s own.

 Kid were so easy to please. Now, if only her grandfather was the same…

 “Thanks!” Momoi said, smiling like a tickled peach.

 “Oi!” Aomine cut in, apparently he had been trying to get their attention for some time now.

 “Ah, you’re also pretty, Aomine.” Maybe he felt left out of the compliment train. 

 He spluttered at that and Momoi covered a laugh. “No, you idiot. I meant the bell! We’re late for class!”

- 

Daiki liked Yamamoto.

 No, not in _that_ way, but he didn’t mind her company much in the same way he didn’t mind Satsuki’s. He’d known _of_ her for some time, sure, but he only really started talked to her this year when they were put into the same class.

 She always had this cool attitude that he admired, and was unbothered by what people said, even when it was to her face.

 She was strong, too! Though it was hard to tell through the uniform, she once lifted Daiki up off the ground and held him in the air! Daiki knew he was no where near as light at Satsuki, so it was a surprise when Yamamoto managed to lift him off the ground so he could practice ‘dunking’ a basketball during gym.

 Yamamoto also always had something interesting to say. Like how in the 80’s people once wore really short shorts when playing basketball, or how almost nobody would be using maths as an adult besides fractions, multiplication and addition.

 Sure, her blues eyes would worryingly glaze over sometimes if she stopped paying attention, and she could be spacey to the highest degree, walk into walls, forget dates and names (even his!), and once she even went into the wrong classroom by mistake!

 But still, she was cool in Daiki’s books. Well, she would be even cooler if she played basketball.

 “Yamamoto!” He called out to her after school, dribbling the ball as he ran to catch up the the girl down the street. Her light blonde hair, which was easy to see in the ocean of black haired students, was in frizzy disarray from sleeping in class again. “Come play basketball with me!”

 She didn’t stop walking until he caught up with her, jumping in front to stop her in her tracks.

 “Huh? Did you want something?” Her face scrunched up, thinking hard.

 Daiki huffed, annoyed but not surprised he’d have to repeat himself. This was Yamamoto he was talking to after all, Space Head of the century.

 “You. Me. Street courts. Right now.” He pointed at her with an excited grin. He hadn’t played a game with her since… ever! She was always gone by the end of school day, slipping away like a ghost, and he didn’t know where she lived so he couldn’t go to her house to ask to her to play.

 Normally, he would ask Satsuki to come with him, but she had a doctor’s appointment today, and he was tired of winning against her anyway. Plus, Daiki was suuuuper bored.

 And Yamamoto was strong, he could feel it somehow; deep in his bones. He craved a good challenge.

 Yamamoto sighed wearily, the bags under her eyes somehow looking darker and more sunken than ever. She reached a hand up and rubbed at them, slouching in on herself like an old cat.

 The expression she wore looked… odd on her face. At once too old and too young. Daiki had for sure never seen anyone make the faces that Yamamoto did.

 “Listen, Aomine,” she said tiredly, “I’m not sure I’ve told you this before, though I’m pretty sure I have, but I don’t like sports.”

 Daiki took a step back, expression like a kicked puppy. “Even basketball?”

 "Even basketball,” she revealed.

 The blue haired boy gasped, scandalized by such a thing. “Blas-palony! Everyone likes basketball! It’s the best game ever!” It was true, Daiki had never met a single person who wasn’t interest in the sport in _some_ way. Even if it was just a casual interest. “Besides, you totally like it, you played it in gym!”

 “You’re yelling a lot,” Yamamoto pointed out dryly, not even bothering to point out how you don’t have to like a game to be able to play it. “And I think you mean ‘blasphemy’.

 Daiki looked around, and indeed the students around them were giving the two a wide birth, whispering and staring at them judgingly. Whatever, Daiki didn’t care, if they didn’t like it they could go somewhere else.

 “Psht! If you’re so embarrassed, let’s go play!” He yelled this even louder than he had been speaking before, ignoring Yamamoto’s wince at the volume. “We _never_ get to hang out outside of school. You always go ‘poof _!_ ’, gone, and I can’t find you anywhere,” he pouted.

 Yamamoto brushed her bangs out of her face, looked up to the sky, and then back at Daiki contemplatively. “No, I’m not playing,” she said, and Daiki crumbled in disappointment. “But I will go with you.”

 “ _Yes_ ,” he cheered to himself before grabbing Yamamoto by the hand and hauling her off to where he knew the nearest court was. Getting her there was half the battle after all.


	3. In which Setsuna sleeps (and Aomine plays)

Setsuna laid down on the filthy, wooden bench provided for the courts, and rested her head on her schoolbag with her eyes closed. Not quite asleep, but not completely awake either.

 Well, she did tell the kid that she wasn’t going to play. She had done enough physical activity for the day and was just about at her limits with socializing.

 People were just so… energy consuming.

 ‘ _Can’t live with ‘em, can’t liv without ‘em,’_ was the expression that summed up how she felt about the situation.

 Setsuna’s not quite sure how long she sent dozing there, enjoying the in-between of awake and asleep, but it was long enough for Aomine to find some guys to start a game.

 Then, in a stroke of bad luck, a pass was missed and the ball collided with Setsuna’s head.

 It felt like a bag of bricks collide with her temple, exploding the intensity of her headache to an exponential degree.Setsuna rolled off the bench from the force of it, groaning and clutching at her head, as if that could contain the god awful throbbing and keep her brains from leaking out her ears.

  _For fucks’ sake! Why don’t you just hit me with a metal bat next time?!_

 “Oh mio Dio, cazzo! Stronzo mi ha fatto bene in testa!” Setsuna curled in on herself, hopefully protecting her from any other things that thought she made a good target.

 What was the world coming to, she wondered to herself, when you couldn’t even lay down in a public area without fear of being assaulted by various objects falling from the sky. Absolutely ridiculous, you would think she had enough bullshit to deal within her paradoxical existence already.

 So, being the reasonably unreasonable person she was, Setsuna just resigned herself to now instead lie on the uncomfortable gravel ground where tiny pebbles could dig into her back. The headache was easier to bare when her eyes were shut.

 “Oh my god! I AM SO SORRY!”

 Never mind, it was worse now.

 “Potresti per favore…” Great, now she couldn’t even get her languages straight. “Ahem, Зүгээр л доошоо зүгээр л.” No, that wasn’t it either. “banal na baka, sa tingin ko ako ay nasira.”

 “Are you alright Yamamoto…? You’re talking gibberish.”

 Opening her eyes, she squinted to see through the overhanging sun shadowed by a young boy with dark skin and navy hair. His face, somewhat familiar to her, was twisted in equal parts worry and remorse.

 She looked at him for a long time, just staring and trying to regain some equilibrium back. But by _god_ , this migraine was not budging.

  _Japanese_ , _Japanese_ … she knew the language was _somewhere_ in her head.

 “Huh,” she muttered, still squinting at him suspiciously. “Blue hair. Nice.”

 The boy’s shoulders sagged in relief and looked over his back to a group of three teenagers, fidgeting anxiously about themselves like pigeons.

 “She’s alright! She’s always like this… I think…” His voice fell to a whisper towards the end as her turned back to look down at her. “You _are_ okay… right? Dude misjudged a pass and got you good in the head.”

 The blonde could only nod slightly, and then turned over on her side as if she were back home on a bed and not the cold hard ground of an outdoor basketball court. “S’all good fam. S’all good…”

 “Are you sure…” the boy was obviously unconvinced.

 She huffed, annoyed she couldn’t be left alone, and decided that maybe public spaces were not the best sleeping grounds. Sighing, she sat up, flinging messy blonde waves out of her face, and grabbed the boy by the shoulder like a medieval father would their only son who when going off to battle.

 The boy blinked confusedly at the out of character display of initiating physical contact.

 “Sometimes… you’re exactly where you want to be,” she started wisely, pearly blue eyes looking far deeper than one would think humanly possible. “And other times, you’re not. Right now, I want to be asleep. What about you?”

 “Um,” he stuttered, floundering for words, “I want… to play basketball…?”

 “And what a noble goal that is…” she nodded her head, long waves of blonde bouncing at the movement and further agonizing her brain as it bounced against her skull. “Now, I won’t cease thee if 't be true thee won’t cease me.

 “B-but —!”

 “Wend on, valiant knight! Your quest awaits as doest mine own. This peasant wast madeth for the meadows, and the meadows madeth for peace.” She released him then, flopping back on the ground with a half-pained grunt, having forgotten that the ground was not, in fact, the soft meadow of her dreams.

 “Umm… okay…. Have a good nap then, Yamamoto.”

-

 “Yamamoto, It’s time to go.” Daiki grabbed her arm, shaking her roughly.

 She hadn’t moved an inch the whole hour Daiki left her laying there. The teenagers he played against called him callous and cruel for leaving a little girl to sleep on the ground, but he just shrugged his shoulders and told them that was what she wanted.

 But it was time to go now, his mother would start to get worried when Daiki didn’t show up for dinner.

 Daiki is sort of questioning the reason why he brought Yamamoto here in the first place. All that she’s done was sleep and encourage him to play basketball. Not that that last bit was a bad thing necessarily…

 But she had seemed lonely when he saw her walking alone down the street, eyes looking down as she shuffled through the crowd. Yamamoto was always alone if Satsuki or him weren’t there with her, like everyone else thought her a germ to be avoided.

 Sure, she was strange, but she was really nice, too.

 “Hey—” Daiki is cut off when a tall figure squatted down beside him.

 A woman, probably around her early 20s, soft bodied and dressed in skimpy shorts and a thin tank top with large breast threatening to spill out of them. Her hair was a pin straight black, falling down to her lower back.

 She was very pretty. With a mature face, thin brows, and brown eyes.

 A cellphone was held to her ear.

 “Ya, she’s right here. Sleeping like a log in some basketball court near her school.” She paused, listening to whoever was on the other line before answering. “Naw, I suspect her little friend here would have taken care of her if anything were to happen.”

 Though he was sure he was being addressed, the lady didn’t even bother looking at Aomine.

 “Well, it’s not my fault she does this, like, every other day. I keep tellin’ boss to get someone to pick her up from school, but he just thinks that’ll single her out even more. Plus, he thinks it’s funny when she gets lost. Likes to look at the GPS to see where she wanders. This time it’s a basketball court.”

 There was a pregnant pause before she clicked her tongue against her teeth, growling a sharp goodbye before promptly shutting the cell phone and tucking it into her front pocket. This left both her arms free so she could lift Yamamoto into them.

 “H-hey!” Daiki startled. She could have been a kidnapper for all he knew! “What’re you doing!? You can’t just take her, I don’t even know you!”

 For the first time, the lady turns her sharp eyes on him, her pretty face eerily serious and hard.

 “Ya? But I know you, Aomine Daiki. Only child, who lives with single mother Aomine Enju. You go to the same school as Setsuna-chan, but only started talking to her this year. You live on *** Genta Rd.” Daiki balked, falling on his butt at the simple, though nonetheless frightening, information the stranger had on him. “I’m Setsuna-chan’s… well, older sister, in a way. We come from the same… family.”

 From the woman’s arms, Yamamoto shifted, tilting her head back so she could look around her, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. “What’s going on? Am I being kidnapped?”

  _That’s exactly what Daiki was wondering!_

 The woman’s eye twitched at the accusation, but she still managed smiled as she looked down at Yamamoto. Showing off her scarily bright, straight teeth. “No, ojou. It’s me, Yoru.”

 Yamamoto blinked, blue eyes looking a little bit more aware than they had hours before. The dark circles weren’t as nearly as pronounced.

 “Ah, yes, Yoru. _Yoru_ … _you’re you,_ ” she tested the name on her tongue. “You’re the one who makes the good tea, right? It’s always pipin’ hot.”

 At this, the woman laughed, tilting her head back and letting a genuine smile line her face. From the exaggerated movement, she stumbled under the weight of Yamamoto in her arms.

 Some people stopped to stare at the beautiful sight the smiling woman made. Even Daiki could feel his eyes dry as he forgot to blink while he looked at it, equally as dazzled.

 “Ah, yes. You always love it when I _spill_ it, don’t you,” the stranger, Yoru, practically purred.

 Somehow, Daiki felt like he was missing something. Cuz usually when Daiki spilt tea at his own house, his mom got mad at him.

 Wait, that wasn’t the point. Everything was just happening too fast for him to process, he was getting confused.

 One moment he was waking Yamamoto up to go home, the next some stranger was kidnapping her! Well… maybe not kidnapping since they seemed to know each other, but still…

 Before Daiki could get a word in edgewise, Yoru had already picked Yamamoto’s bag up off the bench and started walking away with her in her arms.

 “H-hey! Wait up!” Daiki rushed to get his own bag and chase after the duo.

 Yoru just kept walking, not even bothering to look back at him or slow her pace. “Go home, Aomine Daiki. You will see little ojou will see you at school tomorrow. If I were you, I would be more worried about getting yourself home before your mother skins you alive. It’s gotten quite dark, after all”

 A just like that, the streetlights around them stared flickering to life.

  _Shit_ , Daiki thought, _the street lights!_

 His mother had beaten it into his head long ago that he was to be home before it got dark enough for them to turn on. Last time he was late, his mom grounded him for a week!

 It was torture not being allowed to play his Nintendo for that long!

  _But Yamamoto…_

 Daiki gazed wearily down the street, Yoru and Yamamoto still near enough to be visible in the distance. His instincts told him that Yamamoto would be fine. She knew the woman at least enough to be able to recognize her on awakening.

 Which was more than he could say about the teachers and everyone else back at school. The girl still got everyone’s names wrong on a regular basis; aside from Momoi (and even Daiki’s on occasion).

 Somehow that bothered him, no matter how irrational he knew he was being. Of course Yamamoto would remember her sister’s name. They lived together for Kami’s sake!


End file.
